


We fought the Law and the Law won

by Pureblood_Muggle



Series: Drabbles & Ficlets [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, F/M, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 06:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21441499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureblood_Muggle/pseuds/Pureblood_Muggle
Summary: Married against their will, they fought long and hard.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Drabbles & Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543333
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	We fought the Law and the Law won

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TriDogMom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/gifts).

> Happy Birthday, my dear! :)

Hermione looked around the busy garden, taking in the unlikely mix of their guests. It was definitely not how she’d thought she would spend her 21st.  
Had anyone told her a mere eighteen months ago what her life would be like now, she’d have laughed out loud and declared them insane. She’d had plans then: Travel the world after her N.E.W.T.s. Those plans often included Ron, and her parents, and Australia - just to see where they had lived for that part of her life; see it and enjoy it, not dread it.

Funny how life had a way to scupper her best-laid plans. She frowned when she thought back of that day in May the year before, just after the anniversary of the end of the War when the Wizengamot voted, against the Minister, and shackled her to a Draco Malfoy for life. An insane ploy to “further inter-wizard relations” and a future without pureblood supremacists.

She’d fought it and she wasn’t the only one. He’d fought it, too. Neither willing to be married to someone they didn’t know, didn’t love, didn’t want. The Ministry didn’t relent though, and so they were bonded shortly after his 19th birthday. It happened without much ceremony, in a non-descript courtroom: she in jeans and t-shirt, he in simple trousers and a jumper. No rings, no kiss, no wedding feast but bonded for life.

They rebelled by not consummating. They’d agreed on that so fast, she nearly laughed at the memory.  
“I will not sleep with you,” Hermione said. “Ever. They can’t make me.”  
“Fine with me, Granger. I’ve no intention to touch you.”

Oh, the Ministry had sent reminders, howlers, court orders: marriage must be consummated.  
Hermione worked tirelessly, with him, to find out how to break the consummation trace they’d worked into the wedding bond.

It was gradual, barely noticeable by either. The mutual resentment of their treatment by the Ministry led to mutual rants, arguments they had focused on a common enemy. They interacted more, spoke of dreams they had before all of it was taken from them. Time spent together gradually increased until they were friends, respect for the other growing rapidly.

A silly joke to disperse tension on their first anniversary had her laughing too hard, mirth in her eyes when everything changed again: his face suddenly serious, his eyes blazing, a muttered swear and his mouth on hers; demanding, thrilling, scorching her from the inside out. She’d been afraid for the kiss to end, afraid to face what would come after.

What came after was a storm. Crackling like lightning at the lightest touch of a hand, waves of emotion with every look, every kiss a roiling sea of something neither had experienced before, culminating in tempestuous waves of pleasure as the inevitable happened.

She’d half expected a Ministry letter to congratulate them on finally doing the deed. Instead, they were faced with knowing smiles, claps on shoulders, hugs from friends. They’d seen it coming, expected it, knew it was only a matter of time. Her unlikely friends. Mingling with his as if it were normal. She shook her head and took a sip of her juice.

“Ready?” Draco wrapped his arms around her middle and dipped his chin to her shoulder. Hermione’s head dropped back against him.

“Let’s not tell them. Not yet,” she whispered back and he hummed in agreement.

“Come cut your cake?”

Hermione righted herself and took his hand in hers, sending him a secret smile that only belonged to him. They walked to the artfully decorated table by which Narcissa was calling everyone to raise their glass and sing Happy Birthday before Hermione cut the first piece.

They wouldn’t tell anyone for another month but had they paid attention to Narcissa, they’d have realised that her keen eyes had seen the little tells: juice not wine, a hand on her abdomen and not only hers but his, protecting something small that would bring even more joy back to Malfoy Manor.


End file.
